Challenge
by PepperSaltandVinegar
Summary: When presented with a challenge, some face it head on, some simply ignore it and some would stand their ground and be honest and say that it is just too risky. Me? I like to think I take challenges head on, but this one might be a little too much. [Kyle X Wendy. Multi-chapter. AU]


**Challenge **

**When presented with a challenge, some face it head on, some simply ignore it and some would stand their ground and be honest and say that it is just too risky. Me? I like to think I take challenges head on, but this one might be a little too much. [Kyle X Wendy. Multi-chapter. AU]**

**We do not own South Park.**

**We have a feeling Kyle has a slight problem with his looks... Even though in 'the list' he pretty much got over that, oh well. This story is about perfectionists (*Crowd Boo's, throws food at us*) Or dealing with life not being in the spotlight, getting praise without getting praise, facing a challenge. Yeah. Sorry about the delay with Spilled Blood, its not becoming a side project, this is a side project. After a few more episode chapters we'll start using a schedule. (We were thinking 'Mondays and Fridays' but a weekend, let alone a week, isn't suitable for us.) **

**Case Closed.**

* * *

I knew the truth. But was his life really worth defending?

I stood in the court room, facing family and friends, whom I had grown up with. Each and everyone of them were silent as their eyes lingered on me, waiting. _Waiting _for my response, to either say Eric. T Cartman was a murderer or to prove his innocence. In a sense, I was God, and I was the one who had the last say in Cartman's fate. Either live or die, and everyone here knows that I hate Cartman more then anyone else.

He's looking at me as well. His eyes show sadness, No, _Weakness. _Something I haven't seen from that fat bastard in years. We aren't kids anymore, each and everyone of us have grown up, gotten older. We like to think that things are still the same, Stan and I are still best friends, Wendy is still deciding between Stan or Token, Cartman is still a bastard to me, and Kenny still dies. But its _just not the same. _

"Your honor" My voice spoke, but I had little confidence, "As a witness, I must stick by the truth to keep justice"

I lick my dry lips, as everyone leans closer, as if they'll hear the answer just by being closer to me. Cartman has his mouth wide open, like he thinks I'm about to lie to bring him down. No, I won't be that person. I won't do something he would do.

"Eric Theodore Cartman, did not, kill Leopold Butters Stotch." I breathed out. "The person who did it had a different body weight"

Cartman was smiling, a genuine smile. Not one of those fake smiles he uses to get what he wants, either from girls or as a business man. I caught myself watching him far longer then I should have. He was being hugged by his mother and countless other family members.

"Then its decided, Cartman did not kill Leopold, therefor will not be executed" The judge's loud voice boomed. Everyone excused themselves and left.

I stood there a while longer, stiff and straight, and watched people congratulate Cartman, no one had bothered to come and talk to me. I suppose they think I should just wander off. My purpose as the witness has been fulfilled, hasn't it? Just ignore the fact that I watched someone get killed? Cartman is getting all the praise, once again. How long has it been like this?

Jealous? Envious? How long have I felt this way about some fat retard?

"Ah, Kyle, my best buddy in the whole world" A voice said to me, I snapped back into reality and glared at him as he stood before me. "You don't know how afraid I was, but you did the right thing"

"..." I stayed silent, getting praise from him wasn't the same. Nobody cared about me, maybe Kenny and Ike can count, but its really not the same.

"Well I'm going home to cel-a-brate, your invited Jew" he sang as he walked off with a few new friends of his.

I let the words sink in. He means a party. I haven't gone to a party in years, not when the group divided up, not when all Stan gave a fuck about was Wendy. I don't blame him, though. Wendy takes the word 'perfection and times it by ten. I have a million words to describe her, but Stan always has a million more.

A perfect girl, who gets far too much praise, deserves to have the most perfect guy. Stan just isn't that guy. Perhaps Wendy does have one imperfection, and its to go after old loves. Try to rekindle a hopeless fire. The only plus side to all this is that I don't have to baby Stan when Wendy is with him.

Its a far stretch, but I like to think that I'm a little bit more perfect then Stan Marsh. I get good grades, second best in class, I do well in sports, best at Basketball despite being short, the only thing Stan has more then me is praise. Sure, if I get the best grade in the class, my teacher and fellow students will praise me, but their voices would be dry. As if they're just repeating themselves over and over. And in a sense, they were.

When Wendy is praises for good grades, its either by horny guys and her slutty friends. But there is so much _genuine _in their voices, they actually mean it when they praise Wendy. Same thing applies for Stan, he could do absolutely nothing and his jock friend would all congratulate him and all the girls would be squealing for him.

Why I want praises like that, I just don't know. I just want to be in the spot light for once, rather then being 'that Jewish kid who gets good grades and can also play sport'... I want acknowledgment, but at the end of the day all that matters is being hot. Good looks get you far in life, but they won't get you very far after school. There's no rich girls in South Park to marry, and even if you move away everyone classify's you as a 'small town red-neck', no matter how hot you are.

Wendy's different though. She can hold her own, take a stand when a stand needs to be taken. Show people who's boss, kick ass, and still be a sweet girl beneath it all.

I blink a few times as the lights go out, I'm still standing at the witness box. Suddenly, I get very cold. I can't stand being in the dark, not after that night when Butters was killed right before my eyes. It was dark that night in Butters room as well, and when somebody from the shadows lunged at Butters, I swear to God I saw a flow of black. Like a cape. After that, red flew every where. On me, the nearby walls and floor. Red. Red blood oozing from Butters, he had been sliced from his gut to his neck.

I had a strange sense to get out, right now. But I stayed put, didn't dare move a muscle, barely breathed. I waited. Maybe for the same killer to appear from the same darkness that he or she used to kill Butters. To kill me. For not lying and saying it was Cartman. Now that the killer is still classified as 'on the loose', he or she that really was responsible was going to get back at me.

My heard was already beating faster then normal, but when the front entrance door opened and light gushed in, I swear my heard skipped a beat.

"Ke-yle, what are you s-still doing here?" I heard a girls voice, Rebecca Costwolds, who has already gotten a job here at the court. "The c-case is closed"

I nodded my head, as my heart rate began to slow its pace. "I guess I'll go home"

She nodded her head as well, and directed me out the door and into the cold. I watched as the sun was starting to set, just how long was I in there? Soon it would be dark, and I couldn't go home right now, not to my obsessive parents. No, I needed a friend. I remembered Cartman's invitation, and followed the path to his house.


End file.
